Issue 324

By Ahmednagashi

“Men are always discourteous”

These words and the tenderness of her voice made me sit and sympathize with a Somali prostitute in one of Nairobi’s famous nightclubs.

The young lady was standing in front of a discotheque where I was passing at about nine in the evening. Realizing I was Somali she waved to me. I was overwhelmed by her beauty and figure as she was approaching me. She was in a tight mini skirt and thin sleeveless top revealing beautiful bosom, her long black silky hair hanged over her back. In short, she had all you would admire in a woman.

“Hi, brother” She greeted me smiling.

“May I please ask for a favor” she then added

I willingly offered that I would do whatever I could, she then asked for money to buy drinks. I jerked as if I had just stepped on a snake, and took one step backwards responding to her very rude insulting words. To my astonishment she neither insulted me back nor annoyed, she rather apologized for inconveniencing me. “You men, you are always discourteous” she told me walking away.

I didn’t answer and hastily moved away cursing her. After I had gone for about three hundred meters, her words echoed in my ears. Immediately I turned around going back to the club. I found the lady trying to get noticed by a man with his girl friend. The man would have grabbed her hand but he couldn’t, for he was in the company of his fiancé and she felt hopeless. At that moment I was so moved that I felt guilty as if I were one her close relatives who left her fall prey for every corrupt man to see her as sex object nothing more. Something at the back of my mind was telling me this lady didn’t choose to be in this kind of life, but must have been pushed to this extreme. “Does she not deserve to be treated as a dignified human being” I asked myself in agony.

I came to her leaned on the wall and said to her from behind “Walaalo”. As she looked at me I could read her intelligence and kindness on her face.

“I am sorry about how I have just behaved, please forgive me” I pleaded.

She looked at me for a while without uttering a word. A minute later, she smiled and told me she couldn’t believe her ears! “I am Ahmed” I said extending my hand to shake hers. “I am yet to know your gesture!” she exclaimed shaking my hand.

I suggested going inside, the music was loud and the noise of the people made it difficult for us to hear one another.

“Have you accepted my apology, please” I shouted.

“I have” she replied cautiously.

We asked a waitress if she could get us a place less noisy outside, she took us to a balcony where there were few people and had no speakers. I ordered beer.

As we waited for our drinks she stretched her hand to me saying “Nice to meet you, I am called Gini” awesome! The name suits her beauty I assured myself. After taking two drinks she noticed I wasn’t drinking and asked me in surprise why I was not drinking and enjoying her company. I told her that I didn’t drink.

“Then what the hell are you up to” she angrily shouted at me, I answered that I was only trying to apologize and befriend her. She fixed her wide beautiful eyes on me and suddenly turned back to her drink. I could not talk, for I had felt that Gini misunderstood me and knew if I continued speaking she would lose her temper.

“I can read your mind; you think this b**** is in need at this hour” She added.

“You get it wrong” I replied smiling. Gini laughed and wondered if I was mentally fit because, as she would later tell me, she had never met a Somali man sitting with her in a disco just to say sorry to her. Those she used to either insulted her or came for service. For the whole night, after I got along with her, we chatted and talked almost everything we could. At one o’clock in the morning I told Gini that I wanted to leave after I excused, she also told me she won’t take long. As I stood up she jokingly said to me “There you go wrong again, can’t you even ask for my phone number”

“Gini, you think I can lose you so easily” I replied.

We both laughed and exchanged numbers. Just before I went out of the door I returned and gave her money to take a cab since she was too drunk to stand on her feet. During the hours I spent with Gini that night, I was in awe of her eloquence, frankness and found her intelligent person who innocently fell into a trap set by men. Although I had attempted to know when she came to the world of prostitution, she cleverly avoided my questions. In fact I knew she didn’t want me to take her back the anguish she went through, and that was the reason why I took her phone number hoping that I would one day know.

Two weeks later, Gini called to tell me how sorry she was to call late to thank me for the drinks I bought her when she needed. I also felt ashamed for not trying to call her earlier and told her it should have been I to thank her for accepting our friendship. Before she responded I asked if we could meet on the following week end, her reply was positive. I proposed that we meet at the same nightclub, “I know you won’t drink, what about an afternoon’s Miraa sitting” she suggested. “Good idea” I replied laughing and she hang up.

We met where we’d agreed to meet, after shopping Gini took me to her residence. Once we reached I asked her to go out and buy the Khat. I didn’t like to be seen going in her house at daytime as I was afraid of being labeled as one of her customers, she kindly accepted my excuse and fetched Miraa. While she was away, I misbehaved wandering in the house. Admiring her photos on her living room walls, I saw something I didn’t expect. Far at one corner I saw a desk and shelves full of books. I walked towards it, what I saw really told me something I wanted to know about Gini. One of the two top shelves contained books of different genres; the other one was solely for Islamic religious books.

Involuntarily, I picked Asra Nomani’s Standing Alone in Mecca and started to read standing up forgetting that I was a guest and needed to behave accordingly. While enjoying reading Gini’s taste I heard her voice “I hope you like what I read” she said smiling. I stood awkwardly not knowing what to say “you have done nothing wrong” Gini assured me, noticing my uneasiness. I walked to my seat murmuring words I could not even comprehend. Gini spread a rug on the floor and put special pillows on it just opposite the sofa set then entered into the kitchen to make the kind of tea needed for Qayilaadda - Miraa chewing. Seemingly Gini was still mistaken about my intentions; she later went into the washroom, had a shower and came back to me dressed in a way that could drive a sheikh out of the mosque. She knew the rules of the game and expected that in the course of the day I would ask for the return of my expenses. However, what I really wanted was to know about her life and when it had taken the U-turn to her current situation.

Gini handed bundles of Miraa and sat down facing me, I divided it into two of two kilos each.

“Choose one” I said, putting them on the rug.

“The one on the right”

“You’ve chosen the better one” I lied. She shrugged and took hers actually telling me that she’s aware of my trick. As we enjoyed our khat watching the TV, about half an hour later, I asked Gini to let me pick the book I was reading and continue to read while the drug takes effect before we started talking. She told me she didn’t mind but suggested that we listen to music. Just before I replied, her cell phone on the dining table rang, she looked at me in excuse and I motioned her to pick. I could hear her tell the caller that she had less aggressive and non-alcoholic guest. Before she sat Gini picked a small container from her hand bag, poured a white stuff on the table granulated and sniffed it. Seeing I was upset, she persuaded me that she knew I didn’t like it but she really needed it and was sorry about that, I didn’t protest and continued our conversation. Gini switched her music system and played a Somali classical music, “This is Gududo’s classics, I hope you like it” she told me bragging.

“I do, how you know my taste” I said astounded

“Professionals read peoples’ minds” she replied with a suggestive smile. I told her I wished she would quit this profession. “You don’t cross your borders, do you?” she challenged. She was under the influence of drug and I had to wait for more than five hours before I could start asking her the questions I needed. She lit a cigarette and I poured a cup of tea, after short silence I asked Gini if she could do me a favor.

“Put out my smoke” she demanded

“No”. She then asked me what I wanted.

“Would you please dress the way you like most” I requested. Assuming that I would be playing my fantasies she stood to change.

“Don’t you like this” she asked me stroking her nude belly.

Gini came back in a long dress and a headscarf.

“You look good in this” I sincerely observed. I continued explaining to Gini that I didn’t go to her looking for physical pleasure, but rather to know about her life and try to help her as I could. “I hope you won’t mind if I ask you some questions about your life” I told her. She cried and it took me half an hour to persuade her stop it. She told me that she was sorry for her misunderstanding about me and promised that despite the fact that it hurt when she narrates her life story she trusted me and was more than willing to talk to me frankly, she began:

“Mr. Nagashi, when I look back my past I fall sick for days. My family and the entire community disowned me for what I have not willingly chosen. This isolation is among the reasons that pushed me to this extreme after I was ostracized. I had a bright future ahead of me and always dreamt of one day being a surgeon or a lawyer, in my class from primary until I dropped out form three, I always competed with boys and hardly missed number one. The unfortunate thing is that my parents did not equip me with the necessary guidelines to survive in today’s life, something that a lot of young girls still lack.

A man who is highly respected in the society shattered my dreams; he is the one who introduced me to drugs and all the evils I am enslaved to. Yet, the most painful thing is that he remains innocent and the whole community is in his support, simply because he is a man”

The man who destroyed Gini’s life is a senior figure in the government who takes advantage of his position and lures the young girls with the money he swindles from the state.

Gini told me that she lost everything since the day she met this old man of her father’s age. It was one day after school when she and her friends were going back home. As they waited for bus at stage, this man stopped and offered them a lift. They couldn’t refuse as he talked to them in a parental kind way; it happened that Gini was the last to be dropped. While he drove her the man asked the girl about herself but she could not understand why he had such great interest in her. She told me all she could tell him was about her school and how she always beat boys in exams, the only thing she thought will please this uncle. Gini remembers that he was not listening to her, and after she stopped he began to talk about how beautiful she was and commented on her long neck and silky hair.

He started to come at the same time and find them at stage every day. He finally convinced her to wait for Uncle- the name he called himself- at school to pick her. He used to give her daily pocket money which Gini couldn’t finish and shared with her friends. He was setting a trap for this kid to fall and spend a lot of time and money just to win her trust, which he eventually succeeded.

One day he told her that he met with her teachers and was very pleased to know that she beat all the smart boys in the exams. He persuaded her to accept his invitation at the week end to take her for sigh seeing to Gacan Libaax.

“This offer is to express my appreciation to your excellence in school, he told me pretending kind to me” says Gini.

She told me that she could not resist going with him since he promised to take her to the scenery of the mountains she liked and bring her back early.

“Since geography was one of my favorite subjects I liked the idea of going to the famous Golis Range and telling my class about my visit to Gacan Libaax during the rainy season. I had not imagined I was headed for a nightmare because I never thought Uncle would harm me” Gini admits sobbing

Before they had gone out of the city, he suggested that they take soft drink at a restaurant. An unscrupulous waiter whom Uncle had paid earlier administered a drug in Gini’s juice; minutes later while already traveling Gini felt dizzy and complained to Uncle asking him to take her back home and that was the last thing she remembers. She woke up bleeding and in painful situation; she cried and pleaded him to let her go. He showed her a video filmed while molesting her and demanded that she should come to him every weekend or he will give the tape to her school mates. From that day on he continuously abused her introducing her to Khat and alcohol, threatening her if she refused his demands the tape would go public and after she got pregnant he simply damped her. Her family also disowned Gini after realizing she was pregnant. She told me that she was lucky and a female doctor helped her had a save abortion.

“It hurts please don’t ask me go further” she requested me crying. The tone of her voice was so touching that I couldn’t stop my tears.

The society whose norms are normally prescribed by men as Gini put it has failed her, for it was Gini who suffered of all the accusations and segregation, while the man who destroyed her life is regarded as a leader in the community.

This is the reason why Gini hated all men and also the fact that all men treat her as sex object taking advantage of her vulnerability of being an addict. Apart from being an addict prostitute, this twenty nine year old lady remains polite and does everything possible to remain informed and educated. She told me she reads inspirational Islamic books, but has difficulty with booksellers who think that she is no longer a good Muslim and hardly sell a book to her. I asked her if she practiced religion,

“I don’t” emphatically Gini replied. She told me that since the reactions of the people to her and the teachings of the religion are extremely apart, at times she feels religion has failed her but she firmly believes that it is the community that doesn’t comply with the just teachings of Islam.

I am happy that now Gini no longer goes out to discos looking for somebody to pay for her alcohol or Khat in exchange of her body. She accepted my offer of paying her daily khat bill.

“Thank you Nagashi, I feel like dignified human being have time to read more and become a good Muslim once again” she one day told me.

I have also suffered for being a friend of Gini’s. Men always accuse me of being a wicked person and one of the lost people. They don’t listen to my argument when I ask them: is it wise to be good only when it makes us look good? Does it make any sense to disassociate ourselves with those we consider gone astray instead of trying hard bringing them back to life?

I lost most of my male friends simple because I am also a friend to Gini; this made me feel lonely and had difficult time to cope with it, but I later realized that loosing them for Gini is worthy. After all it is better to have one friend from whom you can borrow a book than a dozen who would just come to you to settle their Khat bills.